Page 49 of The Flavor of Us

And it’sperfect.

She reaches for a napkin, her fingers already smudged with sauce, but Ryder stops her with one big hand wrapping gently around her wrist.

“May I?” he asks softly, his deep voice smooth, like he’s asking for something far more intimate than wiping ketchup off her lips.

Carleen hesitates, her brown eyes flicking up to his face before she nods and Ryder leans in. He cups her jaw with one hand, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek as he tilts her face up. Then he leans down and kisses her—soft, slow, deliberate. I can feel the way Carleen melts into it, the way her shoulders drop just a little more, the way her hand comes up to lightly grip Ryder’s wrist.

It’s not just a kiss—it’s trust. It’s surrender. It’sherletting him in, letting him see her when she’s vulnerable. I hum softly, the sound escaping before I can stop it. My body feels warm all over, my chest tight with something I can’t quite name. Ashton, who’s been quietly watching the scene unfold beside me, presses a kiss to my temple, his lips lingering there for a moment before he speaks.

“They look pretty together, don’t they, little doe?” he murmurs against my skin.

I nod, my voice catching in my throat. “Yeah, they really do.”

Ashton tilts his head slightly, his brown eyes locking onto mine, filled with something soft and knowing. “Almost as pretty as you,” he says softly before leaning in and capturing my lips in a kiss of his own.

When we pull back, Ryder and Carleen are both watching us. Carleen’s face is flushed, her lips still slightly parted from her kiss with Ryder. Ryder’s gaze flicks between Ashton and me, a slow smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

There’s a beat of silence—a pause in the chaos of the diner, like the four of us are wrapped in a bubble, a space carved out just for us.

But then—my stomach growls.

Loudly.

Ashton throws his head back and laughs, this deep, full-bodied sound that makes my cheeks heat up instantly. Carleen raises a brow at me, her lips twitching in amusement.

“Alright, alright,” I mutter, grabbing my sandwich. “I’m eating, okay?”

I take a big, messy bite, sauce dripping onto my fingers as I hum in satisfaction. Ashton nudges me with his elbow, his grin still wide as he picks up a fry and pops it into his mouth. “Good girl,” he teases, his voice dropping slightly on the last word.

I glare at him, cheeks full of burger, but it’s pointless because my face is already flushed, and Ashton knows what he’s doing.

Ryder snorts softly, shaking his head as he picks at the onion rings in front of him, Carleen continuing what’s left of her burger. She even approves of her strawberry shake, although she tries to hide how much she truly loves it. I already know she’s planning a way to remake it at home.

Ashton teases me relentlessly, sneaking fries off my plate whenever I’m not looking and calling melittle doewith that stupid, playful grin on his face. This isn’t some grand romanticmoment. It’s not candlelit dinners or whispered confessions under moonlight.

It’s greasy burgers and sticky fingers. It’s loud chatter and stolen glances. It’sus.

And somehow, it feels more perfect than anything else ever could.

Chapter twenty-three

CARLEEN

The day stretches out in a hazy glow of easy laughter, casual touches, and warmth that settles somewhere deep in my chest. I didn’t expect this—not the way Ryder watches me like he can see every wall I’ve ever built, not the way Ashton effortlessly pulls Tati into peals of giggles, not the way Tati blooms like a flower in sunlight under their attention.

It’sso much.

But it’s good. It’s safe.

Ryder is thoughtful, almost painfully so. He notices when I’m too quiet, when my shoulders get tight again, and he gently nudges me back into the moment without ever making it feel forced. His blue eyes track every little detail, every flicker of emotion, and somehow, he doesn’t make me feel exposed.

Ashton, on the other hand, is loud and playful. He’s a constant stream of commentary, mostly aimed at making Tati laugh ordrawing her attention back to him every time she gets distracted by something sparkly in a store window. But underneath that teasing charm, there’s something sharp—an awareness that rivals Ryder’s quiet observation. Ashtonseesthings. He watches Tati with a focus that’s almost reverent, like she’s some rare piece of art he’s been lucky enough to stumble across.

And Tati…

God, Tati.

She’sthriving.Her smile is bright, her laughter unrestrained. She’s got this glow about her—like she’s soaking in every ounce of affection and attention and letting herself enjoy it without guilt. She’s holding onto Ashton’s hand half the time and leaning into Ryder’s shoulder the other, and yet, her eyes still flick back to me. Checking. Making sure I’m still here.

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